The Next Great Adventure
by Child of the Muse
Summary: It's just not possible to say goodbye to the love of your life.


He would have hated a day like today. He would have hated having a funeral at all. He wanted his ashes to be scattered to the wind. He wanted to be forgotten. But how could I forget the bravest man who had ever lived? The man who had captured my heart.

I remember the first day I met him. He went on and on in a bitter voice about how potions could ensnare the senses or some rubbish. He'd always had an eloquent way of speaking, even if he _was_, in fact, bitter that he had to teach this class in the first place.

Life didn't get much better after that. He was always around me, as if trying constantly to find some excuse to take away points. As if trying to find some way to berate me for something I hadn't done. He made life harder on me than it had to be and at the time, I couldn't understand why. But I understand now what I didn't than. Snape couldn't get past seeing me as my father. It was only at the very end that he relinquished his vision of my dad instead for one of my mom. He more or less told me that I was more like her than anyone could have known.

And some part of me hoped he was right. We all made mistakes, but I truly hoped that I didn't spend my years like a bully, as my father did. However, I wished that I'd spent more time in the library like Hermione. It would have made my job as an auror so much easier. But that was besides the point.

The first time that I truly got to know Severus Snape was during a detention in fifth year. He was cruel and mean until I started asking questions about the dark arts. At first, he brushed me off. And every night, I kept coming back to scrub the cauldrons and talk until there was nothing left to scrub. He would assign me other tasks and as soon as he would finish grading papers, he would come over and we would talk more about defense. He was more knowledgeable than any other teacher I'd had. I couldn't even begin to fathom how he knew so much and the first time I said so, he scoffed.

"Of course you wouldn't. Your pea sized brain has never heard of such a thing as a library."

But I didn't let that barb get to me. It was just in his nature to insult everyone around him. I brushed it off and he continued to teach me more spells. But he always began with the theory. "Magic in and of itself is using a percentage of your brain. But when you know the theory behind the magic and you know what you are doing, it makes the magic twice as powerful, since you know where to direct it."

And so I began to study every book on theory that he gave me. Sure there were ones in the library. But they didn't seem as prevalent if they didn't come from Snape, for whatever reason.

It was during one of these sessions that I blacked out. I felt my body overheat and bright lights crossed my eyes as I felt my head split open from the severe pain. It was the most violent scene I had ever witness from Voldemort. Parts of his torture were the cruciates curse. Others were...unspeakable.

When I came to, Snape was looking at me like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time.

"Po-Harry. What happened?"

He must have known I could answer at that moment and conjured up a trashcan for me to empty the contents of my stomach into.

"That was my reaction when I saw firsthand the kind of violence he could inflict. You get used to it eventually. But it never really leaves you."

"No, it doesn't."

That gave him pause. "You've seen him torture in this way before?"

"Yes, but never to this extent. Never this bad."

He sighed. "Come into my rooms. There is something you need to be told."

That was when I was told about the horcruxes. That there was a piece of Voldemort's soul living inside me. I couldn't help but wonder why Dumbledore, the man I had come to trust so deeply, had never told me. I had looked up to him like a father!

In Snape's eyes, I could see tinges of hidden pain. The lines of his face were etched with bitterness. And I would do anything to make him more lighthearted. Sure, he would never be a Gryffindor. But maybe someday, I would get a real smile out of him.

That was when we began spending more and more time in his rooms. His past was so much like mine, except to me, it was worse. I was beaten and broken by my aunt and uncle. He had to deal with it from his actual parents. And I was sorry. Not for him, but that he had to go through what he went through. I wish I could have gone through it for him. But I never told him, even though I knew he suspected.

That first time I spent the night in his chambers was when we realized how alike we were, and that age was the only thing keeping us apart.

So for the rest of that year and all during my sixth year, we were inseparable. I was looking forward to being with him after the war was over. But Voldemort couldn't help but take the last of my life away from me.

There was nothing that I had to help him. And after he gave me his memories and told me that I had my mothers eyes, he kissed me. And he breathed that last breath right into my mouth as he gave up his soul.

Now standing at his grave, I know that I have to say goodbye to him. I have to say goodbye to him, to the memories, to the love we shared. But I couldn't walk away. I couldn't leave him to wonder the afterlife alone.

I knew that without him, there was no life on earth that could hold me. So I lifted up the shiny blade in my hand and pierced my heart, unafraid. After all, as Dumbledore said, death was just the next great adventure.


End file.
